


Three for the Road

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the many great things about worshipping Chaos is that you are never upset by a change of plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three for the Road

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Mydeira. Beta'd by Sadbhyl.
> 
> From June 2, 2005: Vizzini told me to go back to the beginning, so here I am. Let’s just hope I don’t become the George Lucas type of revisionist. But I think this might be more along the lines of Peter Jackson and his Extended Editions. I hope. So what inspired this? You grow a lot in a year of working closely with a group of characters, you get to know them very well in that time and you want to do right by them. That’s what brings me back. Thank you to sadbhyl for sticking by me through this all and encouraging me on this project, as well as helping add much depth to the life of these characters through her own writings in the 'verse.

Ethan and alcohol. It was a combination that never led to anything good. If he had been smart, Giles would have beaten Ethan as per usual and sent him from town bruised, bloodied, but no wiser to return and do it all over again. It was the only safe way to deal with Ethan’s visits, to go on the offensive before he could find a weakness and slip under Giles’ well-crafted armor.  
  
Unfortunately, Giles was already in a weakened state. He was too lonely for his own good and company was not to be overlooked. Even if that company happened to be a person very dangerous to Giles’ continued well-being.  
  
“Now, isn't this more fun than kicking my ass?” Ethan asked with a rakish smile, cutting into Giles’s musings.  
  
“No,” he grimaced in reply, taking in the scene around him. The offer of useful information from Ethan had led them to taking drinks at one of Sunnydale’s dingier but still somewhat reputable bars.  
  
“Oh. It's more fun for me,” his friend said in amusement.  
  
Giles’s eyes narrowed. It was best to keep this encounter as brief as possible. “Just tell me what—” he stopped, catching sight of a familiar face looking almost but not quite out of place at the bar. The woman didn’t really belong in a place like this.  
  
“I must be losing my touch if you’re bored this early in the game and looking for other prospects,” Ethan said, his tone wounded.  
  
“You lost your touch years ago,” Giles retorted, even though that was far from the case.  
  
Ethan shrugged it off easily, having known Giles too long and too well to give the comment any weight.  
  
Giles rose without excusing himself and made his way over to the bar. Maybe it was Ethan’s influence, but he was feeling a bit daring this evening. Leaning close to the woman he’d spotted, he whispered in her ear, “You do know this is a dangerous game you’re playing, coming in here like this.”  
  
Joyce Summers turned on him with a look of surprise bordering on outrage that quickly melted into one of intense relief. “Rupert,” she sighed, a small smile growing on her lips. “You don’t know how glad I am to see a friend in this place.”  
  
“What are you doing here?” he inquired, touched that she was pleased to see him.  
  
“Didn’t you know that I come here every Tuesday evening?” she answered lightly. Then catching his discerning look, she admitted, “I was never a very good liar. The truth is that I was supposed to meet someone here but they don’t seem to be showing up. Probably all for the best anyway. I should probably get home.”  
  
That wouldn’t do at all, especially after she had been stood up. He also had the feeling that she might be just as lonely as he was. “Would you consider staying if I bought you a drink?” he offered. A gesture of friendship and nothing more, of course. He had always enjoyed her company, though after the incident with the chocolate last year they had kept their distance.  
  
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Giles?” She blinked innocently.  
  
“Oh, well, er . . .” Not that he would mind.  
  
“Rupert? I didn’t mean to shock you,” she apologized, taking pity on him. “I just couldn’t resist. A drink would be lovely, thank you.”  
  
After getting a drink for Joyce, he led her back to the table.  
  
“Oh, you’re not alone. I don’t want to intrude.” Joyce backed up, seeing Ethan sitting there, watching them with interest.  
  
“You’ll be doing nothing of the sort,” Giles reassured her.  
  
“Glad you value my company so much, Ripper.” Ethan frowned, but his eyes were dancing. The man’s mind was always working. Giles could only wonder what he would try to make of this. Then looking at Joyce, he flashed her a wicked grin. “But I suppose I can excuse you this once.”  
  
“Do I know you from somewhere?” She studied him as she sat down.  
  
“I don’t think—”  
  
“Remember the incident with the band candy last year?” Giles hinted.  
  
Her eyes widened. She looked from him to Ethan and back again. “You two are friends?” she asked with surprise.  
  
“Ripper and I go way back.” Ethan smirked. “But some of us don’t like to remember the good ol’ days, do we?”  
  
Giles could only glare in response, realizing that he was entering onto very dangerous ground by inviting Joyce over to join them. Not that taking drinks with Ethan in the first place had been without its own set of risks.

***

Joyce’s memories of the band candy were vivid in some respects and very cloudy in others. She could recall every kiss, every touch she and Rupert had shared that day with perfect clarity. The fact that she dreamt of that time with him frequently probably helped in that respect. However, running into Buffy, trapping this man in the warehouse, saving the babies . . . those memories were vague at best. But what she did remember of him led her to believe that these two men were anything but friends.  
  
“You keep calling him Ripper,” Joyce said, letting the name roll over her tongue, savoring it. “I’ve always wanted to know how he got that name.”  
  
“And I will be more than happy to fill you in.” Rupert’s friend smiled pleasantly. “As soon as I know your name, that is. Rupert is forgetting his manners this evening.”  
  
“Joyce. Joyce Summers,” she supplied, holding out her hand. “And you are?”  
  
His eyebrows shot up, eyes flickering briefly toward Rupert, but he then kissed the top of her hand smoothly. “Ethan Rayne.”  
  
“Ethan Rayne,” she murmured, the name stirring another vague memory that she couldn’t quite pin down. Something to do with Buffy. She shrugged it off, wondering why such a remarkable looking man didn’t leave a more lasting impression. The eyes alone, a dark, rich brown seeming to devour everything in sight, were unforgettable. And the deep character lines etched along his face . . .  
  
He grinned, catching on to her intense study. “Well, Joyce, what would you like to know?”  
  
“Ethan, I beg you,” Rupert cut in, reminding Joyce that he was there.  
  
“Hm, begging, that could be interesting,” Ethan considered.  
  
Joyce didn’t miss the look that passed between the two men. She suddenly suspected there was more than friendship between them. There was rivalry and animosity, a touch of bitterness, but also attraction. It was something almost electric between them, and she couldn’t wait to find out more.  
  
It seemed like being stood up just might be the best thing that had ever happened to her. Aside from the incident with the band candy, she couldn’t remember the last time she had acted freely and uninhibited. Most definitely not since college. Oh, college! Wouldn’t Buffy be shocked to learn that . . . well there were some things not meant to be shared between a mother and a daughter. If she were younger, Joyce just might—why younger? She wasn’t exactly over-the-hill, was she? It had been far too long and life was too short, especially in this town. Why should she deny herself? It wasn’t often she had the chance to share drinks with one attractive man, let alone two. And the chemistry between them was palpable, it was so strong. Curiosity alone made her eager to stay.  
  
Deciding to ease the tension and stave off further thought for the moment, she flagged down the waitress for another round of drinks. Then turning to Rupert, she said encouragingly, “Where’s the harm in a few stories?”  
  
“The harm is that Ethan has in his arsenal several tales that have the potential to be highly embarrassing for me.”  
  
“And you don’t have the same on him?”  
  
His eyes brightened considerably with that. “It is a two-way street after all.”  
  
“Is that a challenge?” Ethan asked.  
  
“No, it’s just a fair exchange,” Rupert said simply.  
  
“Fair, hm?” Ethan’s smile was anything but innocent. “The best place to start would be the summer of nineteen seventy-…”  
  
The drinks arrived and Joyce sat back comfortably in the booth as the men began to exchange their stories, painting pictures very different from the men they both now appeared to be.

***

By the third round of drinks, Rupert had relaxed considerably. It was very possible that he was actually enjoying himself. But Ethan had the feeling that was due to their attractive companion more than anything else.  
  
And she was very attractive. But not in a purely physical sense. Oh no, there was much to this woman than loose honey curls slowly freeing themselves from the silver barrette and to frame laughing eyes. More than a striking pair of legs he had barely had time to glimpse before she sat down. There was an energy and a vibrancy radiating from her person that immediately drew him to her. But beneath the brightness lay a shadow, very cold, very frightened. She only exposed so much of herself. Something had wounded her deeply, and he doubted if even she knew the full extent.  
  
Plus there was the fact that she was the mother of the Slayer. That alone would have been enough to ensure his interest, were she not captivating in her own right. And Rupert was positively besotted with her. Ethan had had his suspicions in the warehouse last year, but this only confirmed it. He had a feeling, however, that Rupert’s sense of duty had come between them. Wouldn’t be proper Council etiquette to fraternize with the mother of one’s Slayer. But Rupert wasn’t beholden to them anymore. He was a free agent for the first time in his life. The opportunity Ethan had been waiting for since his friend had rejoined those illustrious ranks all those years ago.  
  
Ethan shelved his plans for the time being; the Fyarl demon could wait. It was far more fun to make Rupert squirm in front of a woman he was fond of than turn him into a raging, bullying, unintelligible beast to be hunted down by his Slayer. It would have been amusing, but the promise of this new turn of events was much more enticing. One of the many great things about worshipping Chaos was that you were never upset by a change of plans.

***

Giles had lost track of how many beers and whiskies he had imbibed since Joyce ordered the first round hours ago. But at the moment, he found he didn’t care. He was certain that he would care very much in the morning, but that was still a long way off. Besides, there were more attractive things to occupy his thoughts than worrying over alcohol consumption, such as trying to convince Joyce that she had listened long enough.  
  
“I think you’ve been far too quiet this evening,” he said, draping an arm casually behind her. “It’s time you shared a few embarrassing stories of your own.”  
  
“But I’m enjoying yours so much.” She leaned back, smiling impishly, head resting lightly on his arm. “And what does a woman have if she doesn’t have her secrets?”  
  
“But, my dear,” Ethan, who was now seated on her other side, reached over and carefully tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear, “there is much to be gained in the telling.”  
  
Her head tilted to the left to consider Ethan. “What could I possibly get in return?” Joyce asked, a slight note of suggestion in the query.  
  
Giles caught Ethan’s eye and smiled. Bending forward, he nibbled lightly at her ear, teeth tugging lightly to get her full attention. “That all depends on what you want, Joyce.”  
  
“And I’ll double your pleasure, my lady,” Ethan whispered against her neck.  
  
“Mm.” Joyce’s eyes closed in pleasure. When she spoke, her voice was husky with seduction. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”  
  
Ethan’s eyebrows shot up with as much surprise as Giles felt. She couldn’t possibly suggesting that the three of them—  
  
“We’re all adults here. And the night is very, very young,” she pointed out. Her fingernails danced lightly up their thighs. “Unless neither of you are interested.”  
  
Giles barely managed to stifle his cry of surprise as she brushed ever so lightly over his cock, which was very much interested in the way things were going.  
  
“What do you say, old man?” Ethan asked. “The lady makes a good point, the night is far from over.”  
  
This was completely insane. But he couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to say no. It had been too long since he had felt like this and he wasn’t eager to lose that feeling anytime soon.

***

It was fortunate that Rupert’s apartment was only a block from the bar, otherwise they might not have made it much farther than the back alley.  
  
As it was, they had barely exited the bar before Joyce found herself pressed against the brick wall. Rupert leaned over her, unrestrained lust stirring just beneath the surface.  
  
“You don’t have to go through with this,” he stated, his voice even, though it seemed to cost him considerable effort to keep himself restrained.  
  
“Last time I checked I wasn’t being forced to do anything,” she said simply, peering up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Now if you wanted to tie me up later on . . .”  
  
His eyes lit up with the suggestion.  
  
Wanting to leave no further room for doubt, Joyce pulled Rupert to her, kissing him long and deep. Breaking away, she said pointedly, “You don’t have to go through with this, either.”  
  
Ethan’s face appeared over Rupert’s shoulder as he pressed close behind him. Voice slick, he purred, “Ripper never was one to back down—he knows I wouldn’t let him. And, as I’m sure you can attest, Joyce, his interest is fully piqued.”  
  
Joyce reached around Rupert and grabbed a hold of Ethan’s pants, pulling him snug against Rupert, and Rupert against herself. “And how is Ethan’s interest, Rupert?” she queried.  
  
“Undeniable,” he attested.  
  
“Well then, all parties agreed, shall we depart?” Ethan asked.  
  
Somehow they managed to finally reach Rupert’s apartment, despite the tangle that they were.  
  
“You did something to our drinks,” Rupert accused while fumbling for his keys. A relatively simple task hindered not only by a large quantity of alcohol they had consumed, but also by her and Ethan’s careful ministrations on either side. She could only imagine what Ethan’s wandering hands and tongue were up to, but for her part, Joyce knew her nibblings and whispered suggestions caused the keys to rattle more than once. “Now would the two of you stop that? Or else I’m never going to get the bloody door open.”  
  
“Never posed a problem for you before,” Ethan chuckled. “As for messing with the drinks, while I’m not above it, rest assured that I had nothing to do with this.” He peered over at Joyce, “If there is anyone to blame, Joyce is a good candidate. Had she not shown up—”  
  
“Always blame the woman.” Joyce glared at him over Rupert’s back.  
  
“Now did I say that was a bad thing?” Ethan grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Rupert’s side, capturing her mouth with determined possession.  
  
Completely caught off guard, Joyce gave him no resistance at first, allowing his tongue to dance around hers, exploring and claiming her at the same time. A surge of arousal flared through her as he deepened the kiss. She could lose herself to this man’s careful ministrations. And this was just a kiss! If Ethan was as skilled in other areas as this . . . But she couldn’t just roll over and give into him over something so simple, as much as she wanted to.  
  
Her arms wrapped around his neck, the fingers of her right hand threaded through his hair, gaining purchase, taking control. Joyce fought back, evading his efforts to block her and striking with the same determination he’d shown her. The more ground she gained, the closer she drew to him, reveling in the press of his sculpted body against her soft curves, his erection a firm and promising presence against her stomach.  
  
She was tempted to ignore Rupert’s none too subtle throat clearing, but she broke off the kiss, biting Ethan’s lower lip gently as she severed contact and turned to face Rupert.  
  
Beside her, Ethan spoke to Rupert, his voice rough and provoking. “You look a bit put out, mate. Time was you would have taken control of the situation long before now. You were never one for the sidelines for long.”  
  
Rupert’s eyes rested heavily on Joyce as a slow smile touched his lips. “Time was I used to take what I wanted.”  
  
His arm shot past Joyce and grabbed Ethan by the shirtfront, dragging him close and then spinning to pin the man against the wall next to the now open door. An instant later, Rupert was devouring Ethan’s mouth with fierce intensity.  
  
Joyce watched them in bewilderment. She had expected Rupert to grab her and claim her, not Ethan. Ethan whose muffled groan she could still hear as Rupert ground against him. Truth be told, she had never seen a more intensely erotic sight. Two male bodies locked in a passionate battle for dominance. It was primal and heated and—Joyce bit her lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. The thought of two men together had never done much for her, but she had also never actually seen two men together, two men with an intensely shared history that most definitely went beyond the realm of friendship.  
  
She didn’t realize Ethan was looking at her until he spoke. “The lady’s feeling left out, Ripper.”  
  
Without turning around, Ripper reached a hand behind him, latched on Joyce’s wrist and pulled her between him and Ethan.  
  
“Can’t have that now, can we?” Rupert said, voice low, as his hand began to trace languidly between her breasts.  
  
Ethan, mapping her contours through the heavy cotton of her skirt, murmured in her ear, “We are gentlemen, after all. Ladies come first.”  
  
If not for the two men pinning her in on either side, Joyce would have likely melted to the floor. Their gentle teasing in and of itself was enough to send her over the edge, but when Rupert’s hand snuck between the buttons of her shirt and Ethan’s under the hem of her skirt, simultaneously and of one mind, she didn’t bite back the moan that rose this time.  
  
Their hands were everywhere, dipping and tracing, feather-light touches replaced by slight pressure only to flit away again. It was overwhelming and too little at the same time. There was no discerning which was which anymore, not that she cared.  
  
And then they stopped.  
  
Joyce blinked her eyes open, staring at the men in confusion, realizing that she was the only one against the wall.  
  
“The neighbors,” they said, in perfect unison.  
  
Did they really think she gave a damn about the neighbors at a time like this?  
  
  
She pushed herself off of the building and stood on not-too-steady legs. They thought they were in charge here? Well, then. “Are you suggesting,” she slunk up to Rupert, snaking a hand around his belt and pulling him to her, “that we take this inside?” She undid the belt in one smooth motion, “Because the only neighbors I see are the palms,” button and zipper were next, followed by her hand sneaking in, “and maybe a philodendron or two.” She brushed his rigid cock almost imperceptibly, causing him to jump against her hand. Tightening her grip, she began stroking him slowly. “I don’t think we’re going to make it inside, do you?”  
  
Rupert was lost and unable to reply.  
  
Only then did she feel Ethan’s arms wrap around her waist, slowly tugging her skirt up for easier access. “I do believe inside,” he whispered, tracing along the satin she wore, “is overrated.”  
  
If Joyce had the ability to, she would have agreed.  
  
When Ethan’s fingers deftly slipped under the elastic and into her wet center, Joyce let out of a gasp of surprise. He was still for a moment, letting her get used to his presence, then he began to move in and out in slow, steady strokes. Remembering that she had something to do as well, Joyce began anew with Rupert, adopting the pace Ethan set. Imperceptibly he increased the rhythm, adding a second finger to the first.  
  
Feeling that Rupert was close, Joyce began to lean more into Ethan, trying to work for her own release. As if reading her mind, Ethan’s other hand slipped from her waist to tease her clit, slowly building her up. Fortunately Rupert came first, allowing Joyce to give herself over completely to Ethan’s ministrations, oblivious to her now damp shirt.  
  
“Mm, we can’t have that now,” Ethan murmured in her ear, his fingers twisting just so. “Ripper never was half the gentleman I was. I can assure you, Joyce, that with me the lady always comes first.”  
  
And with that, Ethan sent her crashing over the edge.

***

Ethan made himself a drink while Joyce and Rupert recovered on the sofa. Yes, things were going far better than he had imagined. And to find such a willing player in the lady, that was an unexpected treat. She really was something. The effect she had on Ripper was a nice bonus. The man also had lost none of his talent over the years. That more than anything was what kept Ethan coming back after Rupert when he’d made it clear on many occasions that they were through. It was nice to find out that persistence did eventually pay off.  
  
And pay off quite well. This was turning into one of the more pleasantly eventful evenings Ethan had had in recent memory. And from the sly looks Rupert and Joyce kept giving him, he’d wager a fair amount of money that the evening was far from over.  
  
Picking up his drink, Ethan strolled over to the couch. Fixing them both with a scrutinizing look, he sipped his drink. The looks they gave him in return were anything but innocent. Excellent. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were plotting something.”  
  
“Now whatever gave you that idea?” Joyce eyed him predatorily, as if searching for a weakness.  
  
“So I should be worried then.” His voice was low and amused.  
  
“You’ve never had the good sense to be worried, Ethan,” Ripper jeered from across the years.  
  
Ethan smirked. “Not much point. There are better ways to spend one’s time.”  
  
“Yes, there are,” Joyce said, rising from the couch with sensuous, cat-like grace. Again his attention was drawn to her legs, shapely calves trailing up into mystery concealed by her proper knee-length skirt. He had felt what lay underneath, but he had not seen. He very much wanted to relieve her of that skirt in the near future. His eyes traveled upward to her half-open shirt, black lace and hints of inviting cleavage peeked enticingly out at him.  
  
Strong arms seized him about the chest. “You are far too easily distracted,” Ripper chuckled warmly in his ear.  
  
Ethan enjoyed the warm press of Rupert’s body against his back. “I didn’t think I had any reason to be on my guard.”  
  
Joyce was now standing in front of Ethan. “You don’t, really,” she said, nimble hands working at the fastenings of his trousers, then pushing them down to pool at his feet. He smiled at her small gasp of surprise at finding nothing else under his trousers except what his maker had given him. Her eyebrow arched up as she looked over Ethan’s shoulder at Rupert. “He’s definitely not overcompensating for that.”  
  
“That’s taking what I said completely out of context,” his friend replied defensively.  
  
“I really don’t think there’s any other way I could have taken it,” she teased.  
  
Ethan jumped in. “Rupert’s always been a bit envious.”  
  
“Has he? Hm.” Dropping to her knees, Joyce lifted up his shirt, cocking her head to the side in consideration. “I don’t really think I can say whether he has a right to be or not, at the moment.”  
  
“You really know how to put a man’s mind at ease, my dear,” he said dryly.  
  
“That wasn’t very nice, was it?” she said, her right hand lifting to stroke lightly along his shaft. Ethan’s breath caught at the ghostly touch. Her eyes gleamed at his reaction. “After all, you have been waiting so patiently since we came inside.”  
  
Before he could reply, her mouth was on him. Red, soft lips parted, allowing his cock to slide easily into moist, welcoming heat. Her tongue ran firmly along the underside of his shaft as she pulled back, taste buds providing a delicious friction along the sensitive skin. In he went again, disappearing farther into the welcoming interior. And out with a slight twist of her head and swirl of tongue. And again. He lost himself in the fascination of watching her work and the sensations her very talented mouth were creating.  
  
“It’s like being worshiped by a goddess, isn’t it, Ethan?” Rupert’s voice rumbled against his ear.  
  
The only response Ethan was capable of at that point was a low, inarticulate groan as Joyce rolled his balls dexterously across her palm, her efforts intensifying. His orgasm overtook him before he could warn her, but she didn’t seem to mind, swallowing everything he had to give and finishing him off with long, soothing strokes.  
  
Ethan was very thankful for the fact that Rupert was there to hold him up.

***

Giles watched Joyce rise from the floor, a look of smug satisfaction toying at her lips as she wiped away the escaped remnants of Ethan’s climax, then licked her fingers clean. The woman was beyond compare, with a wicked mind that almost put his to shame. She had been the one to propose trapping Ethan as they had. When she had made the suggestion, she had been slightly hesitant, not quite confident in taking charge. But when things had been set into motion, the uncertainty had disappeared. And to see a woman like her on her knees, strong and assured, in complete control of things from a submissive position . . . It made him think of London and Ethan and the idle days before things went to hell. Now that was something he’d never expected, comparing Joyce and Ethan’s skills at fellatio. Of course, he had also never expected to have them in the same room together or in a situation to bring such comparisons to mind.  
  
“You can let go anytime, old man,” Ethan broke into his thoughts. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”  
  
Giles released him. “Wasn’t certain you could stand on your own just yet.”  
  
Ethan turned, eyes dropping below Giles’ waist. “You always were considerate,” he smirked knowingly.  
  
“Too bad the same can’t be said for you,” Giles returned.  
  
Joyce’s head appeared over Ethan’s shoulder. “I think Ethan’s very considerate,” she said, her hands wrapping around Ethan to undo the buttons on his shirt. “He did put my needs above his own earlier.”  
  
Giles watched as she drew the shirt down Ethan’s shoulders and off, tossing it to rest easily over the back of the couch. God, but the man still looked good. Middle age had been kind to his lean frame. Ethan stood unashamedly between Giles and Joyce, clad only in that irrepressible smirk of his. Completely at ease. Comfortable. But Ethan had always worn naked well. And he seemed to know exactly where Giles thoughts lay.  
  
The smirk became a hungry grin as Ethan grabbed one of Joyce’s hands and pulled her around. “You, my dear, have left me feeling woefully underdressed. Is there anything you intend to do about that?”  
  
“I didn’t intend to do anything about it,” she said seductively.  
  
“I’m to be your obliging slave now, is that it?” Ethan inquired.  
  
“Rupert assured me that you would be.” Her eyes flashed naughtily as she met Giles’ gaze.  
  
“Well, he is usually a man of his word.” Ethan pulled her to him for a searing kiss, holding her close with his left hand as his right finished undoing the buttons on her shirt. It floated forgotten to the floor as he turned his attention to unfastening her bra. The hooks gave him no trouble, and it soon joined her shirt on the floor. He toyed with the zipper on her skirt, and then stopped, breaking the kiss. Giles could hear Joyce’s mewl of complaint. “We have other matters to attend to first.”  
  
“Such as?”  
  
He twirled her to face Giles again, holding her tight against him. “Rupert seems a bit overdressed, wouldn’t you agree, Joyce?”  
  
Giles suddenly felt very overdressed. His jeans had been done up and his shirt tucked back in after the incident on the patio. The only thing he was no longer wearing were his shoes. “Don’t mind me,” he said, trying to sound put out.  
  
“You’ll learn quickly, my dear,” Ethan smirked, “that Rupert gets off on watching.”  
  
“Ethan is not wrong,” he admitted in resignation.  
  
“Good to know. However, I think it’s time you stopped watching.” She smiled as she untangled herself from Ethan and walked over to Giles. Her palms rested flatly against his chest, fingers caressing the brown material of his shirt. She looked up at him. “This is a good color on you. Brings out your eyes.”  
  
Her kiss was gentle and unhurried, slightly teasing as she worked at the buttons on his shirt. Not for the first time that night, Giles wondered why he had waited for chance to bring them together again.  
  
He pulled back from the kiss when he felt another pair of hands working on his belt.  
  
Ethan was busy inching out his belt, snaking it around Joyce to settle it around his neck. “This might come in handy later on,” he said to Giles, voice heavy with promise. Giles remembered that they had always come in very handy.  
  
Ethan’s attentions then turned to Giles’ jeans, not missing a beat between unbuttoning the button and drawing down the zipper. He slowly slid the denim to the floor. Peeking around Joyce’s skirt, he let out a discontented sigh. “Oh, Ripper, how the mighty have fallen. Boxer-briefs?”  
  
“They’re more practical,” Giles sniffed defensively.  
  
“Lends a bit of mystery for those who are unfamiliar,” Joyce said in his favor. “At least they aren’t white.”  
  
“Small consolation,” Ethan said.  
  
“Could you both possibly draw this out any longer?” Giles growled in frustration.  
  
Ethan stood, his face unreadable. “Patience is a virtue, Rupert.” With that said, he swept Joyce into his arms and made his way to the stairs, leaving Giles to stand alone in his navy boxer-briefs.  
  
“Bloody show off,” Giles muttered, watching them ascend. Ethan would pay dearly for this. Ripper grinned. But that was part of the fun, wasn’t it? He took his time walking up the stairs, letting Ethan enjoy the upper-hand for the little time he still had it.

***

Ethan set Joyce down on Rupert’s bed and considered her as she lay there.  
  
“You look perplexed,” she commented, regarding him intently.  
  
He nodded toward her skirt. “I seem to have overlooked one tiny detail.”  
  
“I’m surprised it’s still there,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “What do you intend to do about it, Mr. Rayne?”  
  
“Formalities at this late date, Mrs. Summers? Very well then,” he agreed, pulling her to her knees on the bed. He wrapped one arm around her and with his free hand began to slowly drag down the zipper on her skirt. “What I intend to do is far from honorable. Now if you’ll be so kind.”  
  
Joyce stood before Ethan, letting the skirt pool at her feet. She remained standing, unashamed, in her simple black satin underwear.  
  
“You are a vision, Joyce Summers,” Ethan said, his tone sincere and touched with awe.  
  
She fought down a blush at his words. How long had it been since she’d received such a complement and had it mean something? Maybe never.  
  
And the way he looked at her, as if he thought her desirable . . . It made her feel desirable. Something she hadn’t felt in too many years to count.  
  
He began to kiss her then, a few brief but lingering kisses on her lips before moving to her neck to trail a feather-light line over her pulse point and toward her clavicle to tease at the slight dip where the two sides joined. Continuing, he traveled down between her breasts, pausing to linger on her stomach. She shivered at the attention. It wasn’t an area she was ashamed of, but she wasn’t fond of it either. It was no longer as smooth and trim as it had once been, soft and marred by faint stretch marks.  
  
“Soft,” he echoed her last thought with a pleased murmur. The tone touched her deeply. The way he had said it, soft sounded the same as beautiful. This felt too good to be true.  
  
Further ruminations were cut short when Ethan reached the waistband of her underwear, tongue slipping expertly in between the elastic and her skin. Joyce’s knees nearly gave out on her; she closed her eyes. Again, it had been far too long since she had been touched like this, warm breath stirring across sensitive skin. She felt him kiss from just below her navel around to her right hip. After a brief pause, she felt the right side of her panties being tugged down. Joyce opened her eyes. Looking down, she saw Ethan gazing back, dark eyes dancing, the black satin caught between his teeth. Reaching a set point, he stopped and kissed his way up and across to her left hip. His next trip brought him across her soft curls; the moist, teasing warmth of his presence nearly overwhelmed her, but he moved on at just the right moment to keep her in suspense. Once he reached her knees, Ethan nodded towards the bed and she gladly collapsed, thankful not to have to rely on her legs for support anymore. Now past her knees, he was able to draw the underwear off the rest of the way in one smooth pull.  
  
Ethan gazed up at her worshipfully from the floor as she lay on the bed, trying to remember to breathe after one of the most sensual experiences of her life. A movement in the doorway caught her eye and she looked up to see Rupert observing their tableau appreciatively.  
  
Rupert stalked into the room, Ethan standing as he approached. The two men faced off over her; Rupert on her right and Ethan on her left. Joyce looked between the two men, a leisurely smile spreading across her lips.  
  
Giving Ethan a not-so-subtle smirk, Rupert, still clad in his boxer-briefs, knelt before her. Purposefully, his hands began to caress delicately along her thighs, soothing and relaxing her with their motions. He circled up along the outside of her legs, over hips to meet at her abdomen and moving down, barely grazing over her mons and dividing to trail down the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Over and over he repeated this as slowly, of their own volition, her legs began to fall open to him.  
  
Soon Rupert replaced his hands with his lips and began to work his way up her right leg inch by frustrating inch, to the apex of her thighs. He paused, holding her gaze over still golden curls, asking permission one more time. Then without warning, his head dropped and his tongue parting her folds to run over moist, eager flesh.  
  
Joyce bucked in response. After Ethan’s undressing of her, she knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge.  
  
Finding her clit, Rupert began his work in earnest, lapping with careful but firm strokes and applying more pressure in just the right spots to send tiny shudders of pleasure through her.  
  
Giving herself over to sensation, Joyce barely registered when he moved lower. His tongue darted into her center tentatively at first, then seeking ever deeper with increasing urgency.  
  
Her eyes left Rupert, seeking out Ethan. He stood by patiently, stroking himself almost absentmindedly while he watched Rupert devouring her with hunger evident—though hunger for which one of them she couldn’t say.  
  
Caught up as she was in observing the two men, she came with an almost silent cry of surprise as her climax crashed upon her unawares, her eyes holding Ethan’s as she came.

***

Ethan watched Rupert continue his ministrations until Joyce had finally stilled. He placed a reverent kiss on the patch of skin just above her curls, then got to his feet. She gave him a sated grin in return.  
  
“Ripper you were, Ripper you always shall be,” Ethan drew close behind him to whisper into his ear. “You always did fancy yourself the alpha.”  
  
“Someone had to be,” Ripper said calmly before whipping around to capture Ethan’s mouth with his, ruthlessly plundering, leaving no room for doubt as to who was in charge. He snuck his hand down and grabbed a hold of Ethan’s cock. Breaking away, Ripper held Ethan’s gaze. “You are always close. But I am always first.”  
  
He began to pump Ethan quick and relentlessly, battle-calloused hands working up a delightful friction against the sensitive and very eager skin of his shaft. There was no build up or easing into things needed for them. Ripper knew what he liked, knew very well. Ethan was soon arching near release until the bastard changed his movements, gripping tightly at the base of Ethan’s cock to stave off climax.  
  
He should have expected it, but that didn’t stop the groan of desperation that escaped past his lips. “Jesus, Ripper.”  
  
“Just like the old days,” Ripper said with a smile, still holding Ethan’s fully erect and aching member. Joyce, who was watching their interaction with intense fascination, caught Ripper’s eye. He gave her a questioning look and she nodded in return. “I believe the lady is waiting for you,” he said pointedly, releasing his hold.  
  
Well, this was certainly a switch. Ethan had to ask, “You aren’t being magnanimous, are you?”  
  
“What do you think?” his friend replied evenly.  
  
Satisfied that Ripper was indeed up to something, Ethan licked his lips in anticipation. “Had me worried there for a second.”  
  
Turning, Ethan regarded Joyce, impressed by how confident she was and how comfortable she seemed with this entire scenario. She was a rare woman and a very pleasant surprise. He also had the feeling he was getting a glimpse of a side to this woman that she very rarely, if ever, exposed. Very pleasant indeed.  
  
“Oh, one thing,” Rupert stopped him just as he was about join Joyce on the bed. Heading over to the nightstand drawer, his friend pulled out a foil wrapper and handed it to him. “Common courtesy for Joyce.”  
  
Ethan took it with a sigh of mock exasperation. “I miss the seventies more and more.”  
  
“For a number of reasons,” Rupert agreed.  
  
“Well stocked,” Ethan glanced in the drawer, filled with all sorts of interesting accoutrements that he would have thought Rupert in his upstanding life would have no need for. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you had planned on this.”  
  
“If I’ve learned anything from living on the Hellmouth, it’s to always be prepared, for every eventuality,” was Rupert’s easy reply.  
  
“I’m starting to think the two of you are all talk,” Joyce cut in, joining them. She moved between them, riffling around the drawer, picking up various objects before putting them down again and moving on. Finally, she pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs. “These bring back some memories. Too bad they aren’t the same pair,” she sighed wistfully.  
  
“Who said they weren’t?” Rupert replied.  
  
Ethan couldn’t hide the smile that rose to his lips. The handcuffs that Joyce had sheepishly provided during Ethan’s last visit. He’d always had a feeling that Rupert and his lady had put them to more enjoyable uses before they were used to bind Ethan to the warehouse pipe. Not that they hadn’t been put to a somewhat enjoyable use then as well.  
  
“My friend here has always been a bit of a sentimentalist,” Ethan informed Joyce, patting Rupert on the shoulder.  
  
She flashed them a smile of pure delight. “Later, then. First things first,” she grabbed the foil wrapper from Ethan and pulled him toward the bed, her tiny hand gentle but firm around his. This was a woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer; not that he was about to argue with where she was leading him. He doubted that she was even aware of the power she had, a force to be reckoned with if push came to shove. He would be wise not to underestimate her.  
  
A forceful and far from gentle hand to the center of Ethan’s chest had him falling back onto the bed. A moment later she joined him, kneeling astride his legs as she removed the condom from its wrapper and rolled it down his length. He absolutely detested the things, as they denied him the pure pleasure of flesh in flesh. Unfortunately, it was also a necessary addition to sexual encounters these days. There were some chances not worth taking.  
  
“I’m at your mercy, Joyce,” he prompted, bowing to her control.  
  
Joyce was studying him closely. “Mercy?” she considered, as she positioned herself over him, guiding his cock to her soft, welcoming entrance before slowly beginning her descent, in part to tease, and in part to grow accustomed to the intrusion. And god, but was it a glorious sensation, her tight channel wrapping around him, drawing him in. Once more he cursed the necessities of the modern era. He knew he was feeling but a pale imitation of what was. Perhaps one day— “Mmm. Mercy,” she rocked her hips once, interrupting his thoughts before they could proceed farther down the dangerous path they’d taken, “is the furthest thing,” again, “from my mind.”  
  
She began to ride him in a steady rhythm, halting whenever he made an attempt to change pace or position. Her internal muscles clenched around him, working in counter-point to her external motions.  
  
Now he could better understand Ripper’s anger over the band candy; there had been more behind it than the obvious reasons. To be with this woman, barely sample the delights she had to offer, and then have his perceived duty deprive him of her? Ethan would have been pissy, too. Rupert likely tried to content himself with staying true to the morals and codes of the society he held allegiance to by denying any continuation of relations with Joyce. But how frustrating. He knew it must have driven Rupert absolutely mad, knowing what could be if only he’d take a chance and step away from the responsibilities that held him back.  
  
It was part of the reason Ethan kept coming back, regardless of how clearly Rupert seemed to not want him around. The thing was, Ethan reminded the man of a time when he was freer, a time when he was more than a servant to an organization whose methods were often as questionable as Ethan’s own.  
  
That, and there was nothing like a hellmouth for chaos.  
  
Joyce leaned down with a contented groan, never breaking the rhythm, to whisper, “Ready for a switch?”  
  
Before he could reply, she rolled them so now Ethan was on top, but still denied complete control. There was nothing submissive in her taking the bottom. It seemed calculated. A thought which was immediately confirmed by the presence of warm, rough hands on his back, massaging slowly down, keeping time with Joyce’s movements.  
  
Ethan caught the wicked glint in her eye as she stilled her movements and unlinked her ankles from around his back. He was then aware of one slick finger working its way into his rear passage. It should have worried him with how in sync the two of them were, but worry was the furthest thing from his mind.  
  
“So gentle?” he grunted, not from discomfort, as he glanced back over his shoulder and willed his muscles to relax as a second finger joined the first.  
  
“For you?” Ripper rasped, eyes dancing devilishly. He twisted his fingers just so, then added a third finger suddenly. “Think again.”  
  
As Rupert worked his fingers, preparing Ethan for the intrusion to come, Ethan was reminded of just how long it had been since he’d been in this position. Far too long by his standards. The fingers were quickly withdrawn to be replaced by Ripper’s sizeable erection. There was no gradual entry, just one quick thrust that drove Ethan deeper into Joyce, eliciting a low moan from all three of them in response.  
  
Caught in the middle, Ethan could participate very little, which at present was fine by him. It was Joyce and Ripper who set the rhythm, working back and forth to drive Ethan and themselves over the edge. Gone was the slow cadence Joyce had rode earlier. Now he moved between alternating thrusts of increasing rate, building to a near frenzied pace.  
  
One of Ripper’s hands snuck between Ethan and Joyce, seeking the bundle of nerves to give Joyce her release. With Joyce tightening around him and Ripper inside of him, Ethan was aware of his own climax the mere instant before it overcame him. Joyce followed with a cry, arching into him. And last, by choice, came Ripper, shuddering against Ethan’s back as Ethan spent himself in Joyce’s still quivering center.

***

The trio lay sated and recovering on Giles’ bed, minimal cleanup having been attended to.  
  
“I will say one thing, Rupert, old man,” Ethan said, voice languorous, “you haven’t lost your touch.”  
  
“And you thought I had?” Giles gave his friend a look of incredulity. It was true it had been years since he’d done anything of this nature, but there were some things you never forgot.  
  
“Previous visits did lead me to believe that.”  
  
His eyes narrowed as he regarded Ethan. “Pray tell, how exactly?”  
  
“The number of bruises I sustained for one,” his friend smirked. “You did take things to extremes. I just naturally assumed you didn’t have other outlets.”  
  
“Didn’t seem to deter you any,” Giles grumbled. The truth was, such encounters only encouraged Ethan.  
  
Ethan nudged Joyce and said pointedly, “See how he isn’t denying it.”  
  
Joyce shrugged noncommittally. “Don’t put me in the middle here. I’m just an innocent by-stander.”  
  
Both men snorted at that.  
  
“I will say this has been one of my better visits,” Ethan remarked, stretching easily.  
  
“Only better?” Giles enquired, knowing full well that Ethan was baiting him and not really minding in the least. It was a natural part of things between them.  
  
“While you haven’t exactly lost your touch . . . oh, dear, how does one put this delicately?” Ethan didn’t get the chance because Giles was over him in a flash, pinning him to the bed.  
  
“You were saying?” Ripper asked, glaring down at the man whose personality had changed very little in twenty years.  
  
Unflappable as ever, Ethan glared back. “Well, it’s just apparent that you’re a bit out of practice. Understandable, but nonetheless disappointing.”  
  
“That was disappointing?” Joyce sniggered from her comfortable position against the headboard. There was amusement in her eyes as she watched them.  
  
Ethan turned his head to look at her. “I assure you, Joyce, that was disappointing. If—”  
  
Ripper cut him off with a bruising kiss. “You never did know when to keep your mouth shut.”  
  
Unapologetic, he replied, “The lady was asking a question.”  
  
“I believe the lady wanted to stay out of it.”  
  
“Didn’t want to be rude.”  
  
“And that’s stopped you before?”  
  
“You two really have to be the most chatty men I have ever met,” Joyce sighed. “As much as you talk, it’s amazing you ever get around to doing anything.”  
  
“Chatty?” They exchanged a look, immediately breaking apart and coming up on either side of Joyce.  
  
“Yes?” She blinked innocently, though the easy smile spreading across her lips was anything but.  
  
“Here I was, defending your curiosity, and you call me chatty. So I don’t think your observation is entirely fair,” Ethan said finally, his hand trailing delicately along her torso.  
  
Unruffled, she answered, “It may not be fair, but it most certainly is true.”  
  
“I have to agree with Ethan on this,” Giles bent close to rasp huskily in her ear. “And I seem to recall you saying something about not wanting to get involved.” His hand fumbled over the nightstand until his fingers found what he was seeking. “The ‘chatty’ comment definitely constitutes involvement. You should always be careful what you ask for, Joyce.” He punctuated his words with a sharp, metallic snick.  
  
The two men drew away, leaving Joyce to look up at her right wrist, now firmly secured to the headboard. When she tried to move her left hand, Giles could see that it too was secured to the headboard, though by his belt instead of handcuffs.  
  
“Now that we’ve attended to the lady . . .” Ethan eyed him suggestively.  
  
“You were hoping we could pick up where we left off?” Giles finished conversationally.  
  
Ethan shrugged. “Something like that.”  
  
They lunged for each other simultaneously, mouths crashing together, tongues engaging in a fierce battle of wills. Ethan, it seemed, wasn’t willing to let Giles have complete control this time around, which was fine by him. It was much more enjoyable to bend the other man to his will.  
  
He let out a primitive groan as Ethan’s fingers encircled his cock. They had once been inseparable and had known each other’s bodies better than their own. And in spite of two decades of distance between them, it seemed Ethan remembered exactly how Giles liked to be touched. Never gentle, oh no. There was no room for gentleness when they came together. A strong, steady grip, familiar and knowing. A hint of nails along the underside of his shaft bordering on pain before easing up slightly, thumb slicking through precum to circle tantalizingly around the head before descending once again.  
  
As much as Giles wanted to give himself over to Ethan’s skillful manipulations, it had been far too long. He couldn’t and wouldn’t do that. Oh, no. Left hand wrapping around Ethan’s neck, Giles deepened the kiss as his right hand worked between their bodies, seeking out Ethan’s cock. Finding it at last, he began to mimic Ethan’s attention on his own cock; they had always had very similar tastes in that respect.  
  
“Fuck . . . but you still . . . remember,” Ethan’s voice was rough and broken with effort.  
  
“You left quite an impression, Ethan,” he replied, stepping up the pace.  
  
And then there was no more room for conversation, or thinking for that matter. The sensations began to overwhelm him, flooding his senses. He clung to Ethan for support as he determinedly worked to bring the other man off first. He wasn’t about to give Ethan the satisfaction of coming first. But it wasn’t easy with the scent and taste of Ethan so close at hand after being denied him so long. Sweat and spicy musk underlain by the exotic flavor of Chaos. It had always been better than any drug.  
  
The moment he felt Ethan’s release overtake him, spilling hot against his stomach, Giles finally gave himself over, his climax rushing over him hard and fast.  
  
They knelt there for endless moments, leaning against each other for support, recovering. Giles started to pull away, but Ethan pushed him down onto the bed. He hadn’t the faintest idea what the man intended until his head dipped down, tongue darting out as he proceeded to lick Giles clean of their mixed ejaculations. Spent though he was, Giles could already feel himself becoming aroused again.  
  
It was then that Joyce’s sharp gasp caught his attention and reminded him of her presence. Tilting his head so he could look at her, Giles couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She was as they’d left her, seated and bound naked to the headboard, only able to watch them and nothing more. Her body was flushed, her eyes wide and luminous, and her chest rose and fell with deep, panting breaths.  
  
“Jesus,” she gasped, looking at him. She seemed to want to say more but couldn’t seem to find the words.  
  
“That was slightly less disappointing,” Ethan uttered lightly when he’d finished, sitting back. Giles knew when his friend finally saw Joyce because he let out a soft chuckle. “Poor girl, we’ve been rather selfish, haven’t we?”  
  
“Well, I did ask to stay out of it,” she replied with a touch of bitterness.  
  
“But you’ve been a good sport about it,” Giles said, encouragingly as looked up at her. “You’ll only have to be patient a little while longer.”  
  
“What?” she blinked.  
  
Taking advantage of the moment, Giles reached up and grabbed Ethan’s arm, pulling Ethan down beside him, before rolling to hover over the other man. “But first I have a debt to repay.”  
  
And Giles set about cleaning Ethan with the same attention his friend had shown him, their combined come providing a heady flavor that only added to his arousal. He could only imagine the frustration Joyce was feeling, but they would make it up to her soon enough.

***

Joyce couldn’t help the moan that escaped. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. Never in her life had she been so aroused and completely unable to do a single thing about it. They were cruel to leave her like this while they continued on with each other. And she would have been outraged by the entire thing if they didn’t look so damn good with each other.  
  
Part of her attraction at seeing them together was due to the fact that when Rupert and Ethan were together they only saw each other; everything else was forgotten. She could only imagine what their youth had been like that they knew each other so intimately, knew exactly what to do to drive the other wild. But in her present condition such speculation wasn’t the wisest of pastimes. Not that watching them was helping her any, either.  
  
Finally, Rupert finished and they both sat up, looking at her, equal pictures of satisfaction.  
  
“I think she’s learned her lesson, don’t you?” Ethan said, his eyes roaming over her with hunger. Hopefully he intended to do something with that hunger.  
  
“Lesson?” Joyce managed, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.  
  
“It seems she missed the point of our little exercise,” Rupert commented placidly to his friend.  
  
“There are other ways,” Ethan remarked.  
  
“Indeed there are,” Rupert agreed.  
  
Joyce looked frantically between the two men. They weren’t going to leave her like this any longer were th—“Oh!” she moaned again as they began to lick and nibble their way up her outstretched legs, Ethan on the left and Rupert on her right. Slowly they teased a trail higher and higher, only to skip over the center of her need and work their way up and out to the tips of her bound hands. Feeling her restraints give, Joyce grabbed both men and pulled them up to her. “Well?”  
  
And then they were kissing her, hands on breast, stomach, dancing over her sex, teasing and building her up. She arched against them both alternately as they traded off. Now this was more like it. If they kept this up, she might forgive them, in time.  
  
But for as attentive as they were, it wasn’t enough. She needed more, and one of them alone wouldn’t satisfy her. Joyce was thoroughly enjoying the attention from them both and the last thing she wanted was for it to stop. It suddenly occurred to her how to remedy the problem, but it was something she’d only tried once, in college, and she had been very drunk at the time. The experience hadn’t been terrible; she just wasn’t sure how much she had enjoyed it. If it had been the alcohol or the act that had given her the real pleasure.  
  
“Please,” she begged, pulling herself from her thoughts and deciding to take a chance, “I need you both.”  
  
“Joyce?” They wore equal looks of puzzlement, almost but not quite grasping what she was asking them.  
  
Best not to leave them with any doubts. “I want you both to fuck me, at the same time,” she said firmly.  
  
“Joyce, you do know what that entails,” Rupert said carefully.  
  
“I’m fully aware of what it entails.” She looked at him levelly. Then turning to Ethan, “It’s been a long time since I tried this, so if you could go slow at first . . .”  
  
He grabbed her hand and kissed it gently, his lips lingering. “My dear, you are by far one of the most amazing women I have ever met. Rest assured, you will not regret this.”  
  
Letting out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding, Joyce smiled at him. “Thank you.”  
  
She lay between the men as they made themselves ready. Nervousness settled upon her while she waited. Wasn’t she too old to be doing this?  
  
Rupert lay in front of her, eyes filled with concern. “Are you certain you want to do this, Joyce? We’ll stop at any time, just say the word.”  
  
Joyce took a deep breath and let it out. “No, Rupert, I want to do this.”  
  
He nodded and kissed her gently, soothing the worries away with his touch.  
  
Feather-light kisses descended upon her neck and shoulders. “Brave, brave girl,” Ethan murmured as his hands tenderly massaged down her back. “Brave and beautiful. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Joyce?”  
  
The man knew what to say. She melted under his words and his hands which moved lower, subtly lower.  
  
She shivered when slick, cool finger slipped between her cheeks, teasing over the opening hidden there.  
  
“Just relax,” he soothed, his movements unhurried and easy. There was a sharp sting as his finger worked its way inside. She felt panic start to rise, but his voice eased her down. “Shh. It’ll only be for a little bit. Just keep breathing, Joyce. Nice and even.”  
  
The pain eased as she grew accustomed and he began to move. It was just starting to feel good when the pain returned as Ethan started to add a second finger. Worse this time. Tears stung her eyes. No, she really couldn’t do this. This wasn’t college. She was no longer even remotely buzzed and—  
  
“Joyce, easy, hey,” Rupert said, locking her eyes with his. His hand stroked soothingly along her side. “Relax, Joyce, this will pass. Listen to Ethan and keep breathing.”  
  
Focusing on Rupert, she matched her breathing to his, pushing the pain away.  
  
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” Ethan murmured as she started to relax. “I’m going to add one more finger, alright? I need you with me on this, Joyce. Alright?”  
  
“I—” she swallowed. Then nodded. “Yes, Ethan, I’m ready.”  
  
She felt stretched painfully wide as the third finger joined the first two, but she kept breathing, never looking away from Rupert. Ethan kept his movements small, easing up if she tensed or otherwise indicated that was pushing too far too fast. By gradual degrees he was getting her used to his presence, the pain lessening as she relaxed. Then his fingers were withdrawn, their loss almost painful in itself. She felt very empty suddenly. But the feeling didn’t last long as the head of his cock pressed into the space his fingers had not too long ago filled.  
  
Little by little Ethan worked his way in, letting her grow accustomed to the new intrusion. This was better somehow. She was no longer scared. Finally he was completely sheathed inside her, resting firm against her back.  
  
“How are you doing, Joyce?” he asked, nuzzling against her neck.  
  
“I’m . . . okay,” she said, because she was. “I really am—oh!”  
  
He had withdrawn slightly and thrust back in. It felt different, but not bad different. Actually it felt—He did it again.  
  
“Oh, wow,” she breathed as he continued to move, out and in by careful degrees.  
  
When Rupert’s fingers touched her clit, her mind reeled.  
  
“Oh god!”  
  
He circled her clit and then slid into her wet, waiting channel, making her cry out once again with the overwhelming sensations. This was very good.  
  
“It will be even better shortly,” Rupert amended her unspoken thought as he lifted her right leg to rest along his hip, opening her up farther.  
  
Not once did Ethan’s movements still as Rupert pushed his way into her as well. So full. She felt so full. Pressed tight between the two of them as they moved alternately. And it was unlike anything she’d ever felt or done before. Her college experience hadn’t been like this at all. She would have remembered it better if it had.  
  
Gradually, the pleasure began to build. Joyce gave herself over to the sensation of having them everywhere, both inside and out. She came strong and hard, pulling them over with her, spasming again and again as they spent themselves inside of her. Oh yes, she thought as she came down, this was more than worth it.

***

Carefully Ethan made his way around the living room, searching for his discarded clothing in the grey pre-dawn. It had certainly been an evening to remember, and, by far, one of the most enjoyable visits he had ever paid to Sunnydale.  
  
“Leaving so soon?”  
  
He turned to see Joyce making her way down the stairs, wrapped in a blanket.  
  
“I thought I should get out of town while Ripper was still in a good mood,” he answered, fastening his pants. “Even I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.”  
  
“Smart man,” she agreed, her voice hoarse with use. Added in with her mussed hair and the sultry glow that still hung around her, Ethan was beginning to regret that he was unable to remain in town a little longer.  
  
“I like to think so,” he agreed, tearing his eyes away from her to find the remainder of his wardrobe.  
  
Joyce reached the couch and stood there, waiting for him to notice her again. When he did, Ethan found her studying him closely. “You’re not one for good-byes, are you?” she observed.  
  
“Too final,” he said, slipping into his loafers and reaching for his shirt. “I like to keep things open.”  
  
“Part of the whole Chaos thing, I assume?”  
  
“Part.”  
  
Ethan felt her fingers alight upon his arm and delicately trace the raised scar that had replaced Eyghon’s mark. “This must have hurt,” she commented, her voice neutral. “Almost getting her killed aside, Buffy’s still upset she had to forego new boots to get hers removed.”  
  
That caught him off-guard. The mother knew of the danger he’d placed her daughter in on at least one occasion, and she’d still more than willingly gone to bed with him. “I’m surprised you’ll even stand in the same room as me.”  
  
She shrugged. “I figured if Rupert let you live, there must have been a good reason.” Her voice lowered a register as she added, “Seems you have some redeeming qualities.”  
  
His cock, which had been very attentive since the lady chose to descend the stairs, was even more interested in her presence. It wasn’t like he had to leave at that exact moment. Ethan pulled Joyce snug against himself, letting her feel the effect she had on him. There was something endearing about the pleased smile she gave him. Tentatively, his left hand rose to tuck one of the wild strands of hair behind her ear. “Only some?”  
  
“Some,” she confirmed, leaning into him.  
  
“I expect your daughter would kill me on sight if she found out how I ravished her mother last night,” he said nonchalantly.  
  
“Oh, without a doubt,” Joyce agreed, releasing the blanket to reach up and pull him into a hungry kiss. “So you had better make me a very happy woman before you leave, or I may have to let Buffy know what you were up to.” Drawing back, she let the blanket fall away, revealing herself to be completely naked. There was no better invitation.  
  
“Is that a threat?” he asked as he backed her up.  
  
“It’s a promise.”  
  
“Well, then,” he pressed her into the wall, “I’ll do my very best to keep you from fulfilling that promise.”  
  
As if Joyce alone weren’t enticement enough, ravaging her against Rupert’s pristine white stucco while the man was sound asleep in his bed upstairs only made it that more desirable.  
  
Joyce’s mouth was pliant and welcoming as he claimed it, giving her a preview of all the things he intended to do to her. He broke the kiss to nip lightly down her throat, pausing to tease along her collarbone before continuing to give long overdue attention to her breasts. He laved and sucked her right nipple into a prominent peak, worrying it until he felt her writhe beneath him, then set about doing the same to the left. He was rewarded with a low moan for his efforts when his teeth closed gently on the nipple.  
  
Satisfied, Ethan resumed his descent, halting briefly to tease the sensitive skin around her navel. He would have been content to spend hours exploring her skin, seeking and committing to memory every spot that elicited a gasp or a slight hitch in breath. But what time he did have wouldn’t allow him that luxury. So he pressed on, finally reaching her sex. Snaking a tongue out, he deftly teased her clit into aching arousal, savoring the lingering flavors of himself and Rupert as well as Joyce’s own sweet taste. Making sure she was braced against the wall, he delved deeper, twirling his tongue just so, trying to capture more of the heavenly mixture they had created. Then he returned to her clit, not letting up until her body began to quake. Down he went again, to taste her release as she came, not stopping until she had stilled.  
  
Getting to his feet, Ethan watched Joyce as she recovered. Her eyes were open, but unfocused. He took advantage of her current distraction to commit her to memory. Absolutely exquisite. It was unlikely that he would ever see her like this again, so it was a sight he wanted to remember with clarity for many years to come. So intent was his study that he didn’t register that she had moved until he felt his pants drop to the floor. He kicked them off along with his loafers.  
  
“Got dressed too soon,” Joyce breathed against his neck, molding her curves to the flat planes of his body.  
  
“You’re making it very difficult for me to slip away, you know,” he pointed out, gripping her hips and hoisting her up.  
  
“And you’re seriously complaining about it?” she grinned, guiding his cock to her inviting quim.  
  
To punish her for her impertinence, he drove his cock up into her wet, waiting center, burying himself completely in her warm, pillowy depths.  
  
“Oh God!” she screamed, arching, pulling him deeper.  
  
“Name’s Ethan, actually,” he said, beginning to move in her. “And you might want to keep it down just a bit. Unless your intent is to wake the entire neighborhood.  
  
She blushed, but her tone was still brazen as she matched his pace. “You really are a smart ass, aren’t you?”  
  
“One of my irresistible charms.”  
  
She gave him a fleeting smile before giving herself over to their union, throwing her head back, exposing her smooth neck as she rode him. Kissing along the column, Ethan paused when he found the spot he wanted, a faint scar just below her pulse point, and he waited until he felt her begin to tighten around him. Pressing just enough, he sent her over the edge with a gasp. He let up just before he came hard and quick within her. Her muscles clenched tightly around him as climax overtook her a second time in response to his, barely finished with her first, and he stifled her cry just in time with a strong, searching kiss. Reaching between them, he rubbed her clit, building her up before the second one had even started to end, to crash over a third and final time.  
  
Pulling out, he set her down slowly to lean against the wall.  
  
Joyce stared at him, eyes wide, speechless.  
  
Ethan left her momentarily to retrieve a towel from the kitchen to clean up the mess they’d made. When he finished, she finally spoke.  
  
“I think I need to make threats more often.”  
  
“I’m safe, then?”  
  
“For now,” she grinned. “For now.”

***

Giles awoke the next morning with Joyce curled tightly in his arms, and realized that they were alone in the bed. Unsurprisingly, Ethan had left while they slept.  
  
Joyce stirred, opening an eye to look at him. “Hello,” she smiled, voice thick with sleep.  
  
“Morning,” he smiled back, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.  
  
“Ethan wanted me to let you know that he was far from disappointed by his visit,” she said. “I was awake when he left.”  
  
Ah, so he hadn’t been dreaming Joyce’s muffled cries of ecstasy after all. Giles was surprised by how little jealousy it evoked.  
  
“And you?” he questioned.  
  
“A memorable evening. Much better than I could have hoped,” she replied, stretching catlike against him.  
  
“Indeed?”  
  
“Mm, hm. What about you? Feeling regretful?” He saw the barest hint of uncertainty in her brown gaze.  
  
“Hardly,” he reassured her with a smile. “I believe that’s the first amicable encounter I’ve had with Ethan in years. And relatively chaos free.”  
  
“Oh, I believe there was a fair amount of chaos last night,” she grinned wickedly.  
  
“You are one amazing woman, Joyce Summers.”  
  
“You were even better the second time around, Ripper.”  
  
He rolled so he was on top of her, “Just better?”  
  
“It might have been due to Ethan,” she said, face unreadable. “So I guess I can’t really say if it was better or not.”  
  
“Are you challenging my ability, Joyce?”  
  
“Depends.” She reached down and teased her hand along his shaft.  
  
“On?” He tried to remain cool, but the woman was making it nigh on impossible.  
  
“Whether you’re up to it or not,” she replied suggestively.  
  
“Whether I’m…” He rolled his eyes. “I believe you’ve spent entirely too much time around Ethan.”  
  
“The effects don’t seem all that bad.”  
  
“With Ethan,” Giles began to trail his hand down and across her stomach, “the effects never seem bad at the time.” Threading through the fine tangle of curls that hid her mound, he slipped between her folds, flitting over her clit to sink one finger into her, quickly followed by a second. She arched off the bed and into him.  
  
“Still seems good,” she murmured.  
  
“Just good?” he asked, removing his fingers and positioning himself for entry.  
  
Giles had barely sheathed himself in her, before Joyce rolled them so she was on top.  
  
“Getting better,” she said, beginning to ride him with practiced ease.  
  
“You didn’t even give me a chance,” he tried to sound hurt, though it was quite difficult for him to be upset when he was buried balls deep in the quim of one of the most intriguing and engaging women he had ever known.  
  
“Giving up so soon?” she asked lightly, leaning back to adjust the angle.  
  
He took advantage of her movement to rise up and push her back, regaining dominance as he rose to his knees.  
  
“Mm,” she glowed, “much, much better.”  
  
Then he was kissing her thoroughly, tongue grazing tongue, relishing the unique flavor that was Joyce and Joyce alone. As the kiss progressed, the urgency of his thrusts abated and took on a more languid nature, savoring the act.  
  
Somewhere in the middle of all of this, it began to dawn on Giles that things had changed, that this wasn’t simply fucking anymore. It was the same act, but different somehow. It meant more to him this time.  
  
Seeming to sense this shift, Joyce broke the kiss and looked at him with concern. “What’s going on, Rupert?”  
  
He stilled his movements and looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since the whole thing began. “You’re incredible, Joyce,” he said finally, voice hoarse. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”  
  
“Rupert?” she questioned softly.  
  
“Bugger!” he cursed himself. Hell of a time to do this, after . . . after everything. Of course he would have an epiphany in the middle of making love to a woman. Making love? That was it, wasn’t it?  
  
Giles started to pull out and away, but Joyce held him fast, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist.  
  
“Where do you think you’re going?” Her voice had an edge to it, one that said she wasn’t going to let him free until he told her what was going on inside his head.  
  
“I, um, well, that is…” Bloody hell. How was he going to get out of this? Short of a full confession, which he was absolutely was not prepared for.  
  
“What’s going on?” She reached up to touch his cheek. “Now’s hardly the time to get shy.”  
  
“I hate to admit it, but I wish Ethan were here,” he muttered to himself. Because with Ethan he wouldn’t be thinking. Ethan eliminated the ability to think, and that wasn’t always a bad thing. Seeing her questioning look, he decided to test the waters. “What was this for you, Joyce?”  
  
“Do you mean was this just some random hookup?” she asked. “I honestly don’t know.” He must have looked pained, because she went on. “You and I, we share something. I can’t say what, exactly, but I know it’s more than just band candy. It’s more than just a good time.” She paused. “I think the same is true with you and Ethan.”  
  
She had no idea what he and Ethan shared. Hell, after knowing the man for twenty-odd years, he still didn’t know. “No, with Ethan’s it’s just a good time,” he said, not wanting to follow where his thoughts were leading. It only led to confusion and the eventual resurrection of memories he’d rather not think about at the moment.  
  
“Not for you and not for him, either,” she said firmly. “Sure you can do what we did last night and have it be no more than a great fuck, it happens all the time. And I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t the case in college. But now . . . I don’t know. How’s that for an answer?” she finished with a laugh.  
  
“More of one than I had,” he smiled finally, somewhat relieved that he wasn’t exactly alone in his feelings. Whatever they were.  
  
“What brought this up?” Joyce asked curiously.  
  
“I just started thinking about how incredible you are and wondering why I didn’t realize it sooner.” Which wasn’t a lie.  
  
“Well, at least you realized it.”  
  
“I’ll say it again, you’re an incredible woman, Joyce Summers.”  
  
“You aren’t half bad yourself, Rupert Giles,” she grinned.  
  
“That’s it, time to resolve this quality issue once and for all.” He kissed her firmly and began to move again. He would think about connotations later, but right now there were more enjoyable things to focus on.  
  
Breathless she whispered in his ear, “I do know that I wouldn’t be opposed to it happening again.”  
  
Things were open, that was good. He could live with that for now.  
  
“Joyce!” he gasped. “Do that again!”  
  
She complied, rocking her hips up as he plunged in, allowing him to go deeper, and then down as he pulled back, increasing the pressure. She kept to the pace he set, moving just the right speed to appreciate what they were doing. Joyce caught his gaze and held it even as they both came. Giles could almost hope that maybe there really was more to this for her as well.

***

After taking Joyce to her car, Giles returned home to find a note attached to his door.  
  
Ethan’s elegant scrawl greeted him:  
  
  
 _Ripper,  
  
Joyce is a delightful woman. You’d be a fool to let her get away. You should thank her next time you see her, because you might have woken up a Fyarl demon this morning were it not for her intervention. The evening was much more enjoyable than intended.  
  
If I could hope to leave as unscathed, I might visit more often. The past isn’t so horrible, is it?  
  
Be seeing you,  
  
E_  
  
  
A Fyarl demon? Oh, dear lord, that would have been unpleasant. He would have been lucky if Buffy didn’t kill him. Good thing Ethan was always up for a change in plans.


End file.
